


Dark Souls

by Vertra_Nexus



Series: May the Darkness Consume You [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst and Feels, M/M, No one is without secrets, Other, Overwatch v. Talon, Plot Twists
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2017-03-26
Packaged: 2018-08-18 18:45:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8172037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vertra_Nexus/pseuds/Vertra_Nexus
Summary: Starting right where the first part ended, Hanzo and Reaper go their separate ways only to be cast back into shadows of underlying secrets and lies.  Not to mention the beginning of a new Overwatch and Talon conflict.





	1. This is Our Curse

**Author's Note:**

> Just like I promised! A whole new story filled with even more mysteries than the last. Enjoy!

“Goddammit!” the voice projected was raspy, muffled by its pale white mask.  Still, everyone in a good vicinity heard the veteran’s anger.

“Now calm down Morrison,” the cowboy demanded. “We’ll get ‘em later. Right now we gotta head back.” He held the man in his arms close, a little too close for this makeshift hug to be any type of comfort.  But to be honest, that was the least of Hanzo’s problems.

Planned attacks, kidnapping, bombings, feuds, hidden messages and torture: all over the course of a week. What was this mess he had gotten into?

Simple. A victim of war: Beaten and bruised by whatever conflict Overwatch and Talon had between each other.  Last night became conformation that this dilemma would not lose momentum any time soon.  It would affect anyone who even spoke the name; detrimental to those who got too deep in this obscure web of revenge and mistakes.

And what happen?  They pulled in him in.  The result? A disarray of abuse all wrapped up in a dark cloak; a shield to cover the pained and ill-fated host laying within.

Yes, he faltered. Taken to many risky steps. Never looked over his back more than twice. Even encountering a fate so close death itself.

 

_Karma’s favorite tool is consequence,_ his father once told him.

 

Alas, such tortuous thoughts would pass, with questions to follow.  Some questions that shouldn’t be answered, but nevertheless would be opposed upon.

The once rogue soldier looked straight at the victim. Though Hanzo could not see the eyes through the red glaze, he felt them. McCree not even noticing; too preoccupied making contact with base control. Each step closer, one less second to react.

 

“What the hell happen up there?!” Morrison demanded. “And really? Talon killed those men out there, just for **you**?  You need to tell me why in world Talon would even try to save you?”

“Really Capt’n? Now ain’t the time for this!” Was he defending him? The strategist needed so such thing. He simply just returned the glare, a sickly tone in his response:

 

“Shouldn’t **you** know already?”

 

 

The teleporter had in put in place as soon as the rescue squad had arrived, actually, right outside of the archway of the pavilion. It’s blue oval glow sparkled gently in the early morning dew, giving light to the shadows. Together they walked in silence as Morrison thought deeply as to what the archer meant.  As each stepped through, every particle disbanded only to collide again on the other side. In the blink of the eye, all three appeared from the break of dawn in Hanamura, to a still and calm night somewhere else in the world. That would explain the bright fluorescent lights that scorched the redden eyes of the soon to be patient.

The room appeared grayish with utensils and medical tools of the newest technology hanging all over the place. A computer with a large blue monitor appearing off and to the right displayed moving lines of code and interface. Even the scent of latex and sanitizer screamed out ‘medbay’ as clear as day. Yet only thing that caught Hanzo’s eye was the sudden blonde tint of hair that passed by his face, and the stunning dark eyes to which its face was attached to.

 

“Welcome Mr. Shimada,” Dr. Ziegler chimed, “I will be taking care of you today.”

 

Ah yes, he had met them all before: Angela Ziegler (also known as Mercy) was the head doctor for all Overwatch facilities and bases. The dusty-looking man that came from the far west was Jesse McCree, whose robotic hand was still upon his sore shoulder.  Hanzo to wanted to forget white-haired commander, but simply couldn’t.

“You can take care of him as soon as I get what I need,” the soldier commanded walking up to the doctor.

She looked up at him, as though he were a giant, yet she kept control. “I’m sorry, but as you can blatantly see, Mr. Shimada needs immediate medical attention. If you need answers, you’ll simply have to wait in after he’s been treated.”

 

The shroud covering the mind began to slowly drift with every new voice, every single hold on his shoulder, every brush of the jacket on his raw skin. They just stood in front of him, bickering over his aching body.  It pained everywhere; some parts covered in sores, leaking blood, sweat, and…other fluids. Thankfully McCree had been kind enough to help him sit on the operating table, but that was probably because the yelling became too much for him, therefore retreating to the other side.

How long has it been since…the bell tower? An hour? Going through that teleporter certainly didn’t help in terms of finding comfort of knowing where he was in time and space.  Was he even in Japan anymore? Certainly not. The sun was just beginning to rise here which means that they only travel but so far west to this site.

 

“Mercy, you have to understand. If we want to stay on Talon’s trail, I need to know everything that happen before we arrived right now!  We have less than no time to waste!”

She wanted to look at Hanzo, all of Hanzo, but the man appeared to be one of privacy, so she dared not open the dark cloak with the others around.  Instead she began to file through his dark hair, cleaning the sores in his scalp and applying anti-septic while she continued her debate.

“…I understand you need to find **him** , but you can plainly see, Mr. Shimada is recovering from what is obviously shock and may need surgery.  But I can’t do anything with you two here staring down his throat for answers he may not even know!” She turned to look at McCree, who had taken the liberty of standing much closer to the corner door once the discussion got overheated. A couple of gestures from the medic and he understood completely.

“Come on Jack,” he placed a hand on his shoulder, “If we leave now, she can finish quicker.  Plus we to take care of the scene we left in Hanamura. So let’s just—”  he paused. “Let’s just leave him be.  He’s been through enough hell for one day.”

More like enough for a whole year.

The room grew cold all of a sudden. Only the machines chatted with their incessant humming and buzzing.   There seemed to be no point in trying to read Hanzo’s expression, for his face had become blank in thought.  Mercy felt more stressed than she had been in months. Too many members needing her attention.  And as for Morrison, the mask seemed to cover up any sympathy.

 

“Finish as quickly as possible Angela,” the commander said while turning.  Heading out to leave, gun still tightly clenched in his hand.   “And take DNA samples.”

The doors slid open automatically, swallowing the old man first, then the cowboy.  A sense of relief overcame Mercy, only to be covered in a whole other cloud of worries.

 

“Hmph.  Well, I must apologize for our horrid hospitality.  You see, Morrison is just— very anxious at the moment. He’s concerned about Talon’s sudden uprising is all.” She began to walk all around the room, looking for the supplies she needed for the procedure.  “But that currently doesn’t matter to me.” She placed her latex gloves on, one hand at a time.  “The most important thing is keeping all of my patients up to optimal health. Now, if you don’t mind Mr. Shimada, the others have left and there are no cameras in the room…sooo…”

He had already come up with a bunch of lies, a whole list of stories that he could tell; some of which the doctor would actually believe, yet the real truth would not leave his mind:

Morrison would never trust him.  He’s always suspicious. That includes the problem of Jesse’s curiosity.  And this medic, Mercy: she, like the others, knew Reyes well, a little too well for Hanzo’s taste.  It was pretty obvious by the way she talked about the former Blackwatch commander when he first met them all.  And that meeting itself was conceived with ill-intentions. 

 

That mysterious message sent to him by some impossible means to a hidden location.

_“We know what you did.  We know why your hiding.  We can provide protection and employment…_

_For a price…”_

They’re named ‘Overwatch’ for a reason.

 

He began to remove the black cloak, revealing the wreck that had become of him.  And yes, he could tell that Angela had already began contemplating the scenario. 

_Only **he** could make such fine cuts like her with a scalpel._

_Only **he** left the smell of bitter gun smoke on his victims like McCree, tactful like Morrison._

_Only **he** would be any match against Hanzo up close._

 

Trying to hide her emotion, she continued without flinching at her horrid thoughts.

 

First scan the body, then check the heart. Placing hands on chest and back. “Deep breaths please.” Heart and lungs in good condition, extremely good; better than any current Overwatch member. _His expression has changed completely._ Checking pressure points and areas of obvious brusing….no broken bones or internal bleeding. “Good, no surgery needed.” Inspection of cuts of skin: pretty deep. _Nothing that the Valkyrie can’t fix.  Is he always this quiet?_  Redness around the neck, rashes on the thighs…...still need to take DNA samples, clean, and apply medication to reduce chances of infection. There is a need to look at the tissue around the knee and mechanical calves, but not necessary until later. _His stares into the soul just like…_

“Okay!” clasping her gloved hands together, “There seems to be no major injuries that can’t be fix with an hour or so in the Valkyrie chamber. Just need to make sure everything’s charged and…” Staring at her digital tablet on the wall, she saw that all maintenance on the new medical system had been fix the other day and ready to go. “Good. Now, before we get machines started, I just have a couple of questions.”

Just great.

She slowly pulled out a couple of individual bottled cotton swabs from her lab pocket.  “I’m truly sorry I have to ask you this, but…is there any **specific areas** I should swab for?”  He didn’t want to comply but there weren’t that many choices up to this point.

Without a word, he simply opened his mouth, and she understood completely. Another swab down.

“Um… is there anywhere els— ”

 

“What’s the point Dr. Ziegler?” she hadn’t expected him to say anything, let alone be asking questions himself. His voice was clear, almost demanding. Almost.

“Wha—excuse me?’

“Why continue if you already know what you’ll find? And you do already know.”

“D-do I?” she stuttered. It was if someone was clutching at her throat; breath hitching with every exhale. Her hypothesis was correct all along; she just wouldn’t accept it. “Do I r-really?” The medic hadn’t noticed his new expression.  She was far too busy looking everywhere else. Looking down mostly.  Anything to avert such a gaze that spoke more than any words could describe.  “I mean, e-even so, Morrison will still want—

“And do you honestly think your commander will act in a rational manner if he truly knows what happened?!”

She hadn’t thought of that. The commander seemed pushed pretty close to edge already. This would—

_Drive him insane?  Like that **other** patient?_

“Please, I’m—

 

_This is all your fault._

 

Little to no sympathy. No point in tears. Such things would not bring him comfort, nor was he saddened.  If anything, anger and frustration welled deep within him. He chose to stay calm and focused now for his own personal sanity.

 “I don’t know exactly what happened between Morrison and Reyes. It may have been the bombing or literally any other mess Overwatch made. But one thing’s for sure: **They don’t handle anger well.** ”

Angela stared at him directly. The latter part of his words were missed by the ringing in her ears, like that from a such a loud sound.  Such a terrible explosion. “Who told you about the bombing?”

 

_Such a loss of life._

 

 “Who do you think?” Her eyes grew wide, tears rolling down her face in more than just shock.

 

_But the dead should stay dead._  

 

 He continued, “You can’t let this feud get any more out of hand! Or else they’ll destroy anything in their path.”

 

_You tried to play God and unleashed the demons._

 

“Please stop.” She held out the vial with the swab inside to him.

 

_You cursed yourself._

 

“You can’t be serious!”

 

_The Darkness…it reaches out to you._

 

“Dammit Hanzo stop!!” She couldn’t remember a time she cursed at anyone, but then again she wanted her mind to go blank. Still they persisted; the voices in her head continued:

 

_The Darkness **will** consume you, and with it those you love._

 

He did not respond with words, just with action: He quickly grabbed the vile and motioned her to turn around. She obeyed. She didn’t want to see his face anyway. His eyes were like a mirror; reflecting life’s guilt back into the soul.

 

_You are certainly no angel._

 

It would explain why she didn’t see the words he mouthed. It didn’t not matter; she wouldn’t be able to read his lips in Japanese anyway.

 

“ _May the Spirits help us all.”_

* * *

 

 

The last steps of the check-up were done in utter silence. All her vials were collected and she guided her patient to lay back on the cold slab of metal. By turning Valkyrie on, the table soon began to glow, as the yellow streams of warming light began to encompass his entire form like a transparent coffin. Miraculously, the machine slowly began to close his wounds, erase bruising, and even calmed his pain receptors.  Even his tattoo, began to return to its perfect shape, like his skin had never been touched. Dawn had already broken, and by the time the procedure would be done, it would time for everyone else to wakeup while Hanzo and Mercy would be sound asleep.

Before she left the medbay, she found the archer some spare clothes to put on when he woke; folding the sweatpants and plain t-shirt on the chair nearby.  Sneaking a glance: **his** jacket placed in the evidence box for later testing.

The door slid open once again and as she left, a voice resounded in the room.

A kind, yet judging, “Thank you.”

Turning back, a softened reply, “You’re Welcome.” Sadly, that was not what she wanted to say.

_I’m so sorry._


	2. Methods of Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reaper and Widowmaker return to their Talon base only to surprise everyone, even themselves.

_**Location:** Siberian Desert _

_**Coordinates:** Unspecified… for most_. Only known by the few Talon pilots, one of which flew silently through the blank white terrain, her passengers speaking only in whispers throughout the calming silence.

_**Time** :_ Far too early in the morning.

 

They had been traveling for what felt like days, but was only about a third of one. Talon was still working on the portal transport deal with the Vishkar.  Until the contract is settled, helicopters took operatives to and fro.  Its whipping blades cut across the cold and clouds, snow hitting the earth with a winding force.

 

“…You could’ve killed him,” Widow finally whispered. “that cowboy of yours. Or are you still lenient to your pupil?”

 

She had been bugging Reaper at least once every hour on this long trip back. It was the only way to release her anger on him in a passive aggressive manner.  She knew what could really tick the phantom off though: weak operatives, unnecessary mission meetings, complaining.  Complaining was a big one for sure.  Being partners for so long gives leniency to tell everything from annoyances to life stores, to the darkest of secrets.  He knew hers and she knew his.  And Widow knew all but too well just the mention of anything from Reaper’s past from that Gibraltar base from anyone…well, let’s just say the consequences could be fatal. 

Yet she brought up McCree anyway, knowing the possible risk.  More willing than usual because her ally seemed to be…dazed in a way.  A fog didn’t grow over him, rather the opposite: All his feelings were palpable and transparent in her eyes.  His face read of a sign of uncertainty and dismay. Eyes bloodshot not from little sleep but from agony.  It did not matter whether he smiled or frown.  Just the fact the mask stayed off the entire trip sent signals.

Reaper rarely ever takes that thing off.  The last time was when Widow crept her way into his workspace. Looking right down the barrel of his own dismantled pistols for cleaning.  That was right after the explosion, and his healing powers were much slower.  He truly appeared to be the devil back then.

He just kept staring at the cracked item in his hands like some ancient antique; his calloused fingers played amongst the hardened material, feeling every crook and cranny of its new form.  The thoughts flowing in and out of his mind, sometimes lying gently on his lips, relieving careless whispers; voice darting from normal to possessed.

 

_Why? Why leave us alive? —That man is…different.  He—broke through my mask…without my permission._

 

“Answer me this then,” she spoke once more, hoping Reaper would finally answer. “Why did you save me?”

Returning from his delusional thinking, he simply replied, “You saved yourself remember?”

“Which I was only able to do by your distraction. You did it on purpose.”

“…it was the best option.”

“You should have taken Shimada and run. Most of the time, you continue the mission without fail, regardless of the Talon agents who fall.”

Yes, this was very much true, but then again, this wasn’t a simple mission. Nor a simple target.  That time in the bell tower completely forced him to re-evaluate his tactics. Change the very fiber of what he had been taught has a soldier, an assassin, and a commanding officer.

He had never tried it before, found it below him not to break someone directly.  What did Widow call it?  Ah, yes. “Building a Web.”  Using more than torture, doing more than just inflicting pain on the target. If would have to affect everyone connected, even somewhat related to this mess.  Ironic is it?  A butterfly effect in a web of deceit and lies.  Soon the prey would be trapped again, but not without the chance of being caught too.

Taking risks?  Hadn’t he always? Of course, but nothing like this.

Such a small smirk appeared for a moment on his lips.  He would answer to cut the silence short.

“Do not question my methods.”  Widow could not help but smile at such a comment.

 

* _zzzzzttt.  This is Ground Base reporting to Air 2: we are opening the hatch. You are clear to come through. Over. zzzzt*_

_*Roger that Ground Base, we are preparing to land. Over. zzzttt*_

 

The pilot with her machine, began to slow down and hover over the white ground below.  Within moments, the earth seemed to shake with fury as it opened its newfound titanium teeth, revealing the concealed abyss. With expertise she lowered the aircraft down into the darkness, the light from the bright snow being replaced with fluorescent lamps scattered amongst a huge underground fortress.  The layout of the hidden lair was vast, stretching father than the eye could see.  It looked and worked much like a technical warehouse: an army base combined with engineers preparing weapons of destruction, while others planned their usage. Random officers and operative filing around like worker bees for their master.  **The** Talon Master.  Little did the citizens of Russia know what laid here: the world’s masterminds of all kinds working together here to restore a new order right beneath their feet.

They eventually landed, and with little haste the operatives got out. Reaper had to help Widow out of the helicopter, noticing that she had been suffering in silence with injuries clearly seen by the dry blood staining her shoulder and ankle.

“You need to go the infirm-

Suddenly siren-shaped speakers boomed with the sound of an ominous voice.

 

_Zzztttzz. Operatives Reaper and Widowmaker, report to the Invasion Room immediately._

 

At those words the sniper pushed away from her helper, walking ahead of him with a limp in her step. “No time, let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

“So, here you are, empty handed and wounded.” The officer continued to walk around the bleak meeting room, circling the tactical tech desk and the partners, hands clasped tightly behind his back. “We knew that this target may have presented a sort of challenge, but certainly shouldn’t have been **any** possibility that some random Overwatch agents had taken you **both** down!”

Slamming his fist on the electric table in no way made the operatives falter from their stance.  They stood with confidence, give or take how much of it was lost.

“Corporal, we were working under the assumption that Overwatch had stopped surveying Shimada after he refused to reply to their offer,” she spoke. “Obviously we were mistaken and caught by surprise.”

“That’s no excuse!  Both of you could have done literally anything different to make the mission go somewhat successful; but instead you let the target go, got yourselves cornered, and ran away like prey from predators.  Overall, you have failed **him** once again.”

Widow’s eyes grew wide at the thought of the Talon master. Upset with herself, she finally decided to sit, hands clasped with elbows on knees. Reaper also decided to sit, but instead did so carrying integrity. Picking up the wooden chair only to slam it down facing the other way. Without a hitch he looked the reporting officer with cold brown eyes.

 

“We **didn’t** fail. I know where the target is.”

 

Such a statement piqued ears of those in the room. “What?! Where? How?!”

The next few taps on the tablet-like table displayed a world map. Widow still in shock as to never hearing Reaper speak of this.  After a couple of moments, a red dot appeared zooming in on a specific country on the east-side of Asia.

“ _Sacre bleu._ South Korea?”

“Specifically in a populated area of Seoul we would have never guessed to look for,” the ghost continued, zooming in on the capital city. “Here it is. An Overwatch base probably hiding right in plain sight. Now, if anything, you should be glad I let Shimada go, because he just led us to where the missing Overwatch operatives on our hit list our probably located.

 

Frazzled by this new information, the officer questioned him once more. “How can you be so sure of this?”

Reaper stood, preparing to leave the room.  The meeting no longer held any importance. “There’s a gps in my jacket isn’t there?”

“Yes. And?”

Opening the door as he chuckled. “I’m not wearing it am I?”

 

And with that he slammed the door, hard. So hard the lights in the meeting room shook with fear. The Corporal too. Reaper remotely showing any type of laughter should scare anyone.

Sighing, the officer stared at Widow. “Go after him. You both will leave for the location in the next few days.”

“Before that, I have a question.” She stood up. “How did Overwatch know of Shimada’s whereabouts?”

More tapping on the screen open files to intel on the current mission. “Our sector team in Japan believes that when the target’s legs were deactivated, it sent some preliminary signals that were sent to the Overwatch Headquarters in Gibraltar.”

 

_The ninja probably knew that going into the tower. Hmm. Cunning bastard._ Widow thought.

 

“Very well. Was my rifle found at the scene?”

“Yes, as well as the target’s main weapon.  The clean-up team will be transporting  the items soon.”

“Good.” The sniper walked through the broken door. Only to pause herself.

“Oh, and by the way, that Morrison fellow from Overwatch? He’s the one who caught us in Hanamura.”

“Jack Morrison?  That’s impossible. He died in the explosion.”

“ _Oui_ , so did Reyes.”

 

* * *

 

After a while of light pained jogging in high heels, Widowmaker found Reaper walking in the direction which she could assume would turn to the shooting range. She couldn’t help but notice those who stare at them. More Reaper than her, for his mask was still off, even though Talon gave him a new one.

Most the employees had never seen his face. Through the scars told of hardship, his face was actually well sculpted for a man of his kind. Dark skin mixing with darker scars and even darker well-trim facial hair added allure to the assassin that would make some women swoon. And many of them that worked in the facility did, trying their best to hide their reddened faces and lightened fear.

“You’re just full of secrets _moiseur_.”

“I always have a plan Widow, you of all people should know that.  Now go to the infirmary.”

“I will, after you tell what happened in the bell tower.”

“What?”

“You’ve been acting strange ever since you left that tower.” She was tired of the secrets. “Whispering to yourself, smirking, laughing, not even wearing your mask. You’ve never do those things around anyone, not even me.” Reaper always seemed to be hiding the entire truth, even from her, his closest ally.  There were so many things she felt he left out of every dark story he told.  There was probably a whole other side to him that she would never see. Maybe-

“That’s none of your business.”

Just had to stand up to him.  Look down on the devil.

“Actually it is, because it’s **our** mission, and a took a hit for you. **Twice**. Now tell me.”

Usually, he would not stand for this sort of thing, but for once felt lenient.  Lying was easier at the moment than reprimanding anyway. “Fine. I’ll tell you on the way to South Korea tonight.”

“What? We haven’t been called to leave yet.”

“I don’t need their permission, plus I’m not going to storm the place alone.”

“Just...spying?”

“And…other things.”

“Hmm very well.”

“Good. We’re leaving an hour past midnight.”

And so the spider and the void began make a web of their own. It would begin to interlace with those already in place.  And in a way, the fibers were already being pulled in ways no one did not yet realize.

 

* * *

 

Calculating, analyze, scan and type…Not exactly in that order. Together they created a very detailed medical report, using everything possible to come to a result:

_21XX, Hanamura, Japan_

_Shimada Hanzo encountered Gabriel Reyes at some point in time around midnight. Blood test show that a tranquilizer of some kind enter the bloodstream through the chest, as a small needle injection point could be seen there. This type of barbiturate causes instant unconsciousness in less than 5 second for the average male. It is uncertain how long until the patient regained consciousness._

_External Analysis: Multiple cuts spread across the abdomen, pectorals, and scalp.  Incisions made by a blade-like instrument, and through analyzing the blade pattern left on the victim, instrument must be somewhat claw-like in form._

_Swelling of the vocal cords and rash around the neck suggest…strangulation.  Then again, multiple bite marks were also found on the victim extending from the left shoulder up to the throat._

_Erythema appearing on the wrists infer than they were bound together, not buy some type of rope or metal-like handcuffs, but rather an extremely fine braided cord. Seeing as Mr. Shimada’s bow was not reclaimed at the sight of the incident…._

She thought to herself: Inconclusive.

Backspace was pressed until the sentence disappeared.  “How to go on?”

… _Internal Inspection: Swabbing of the mouth (tongue and inner cheeks) led to the discovery of someone else’s blood cells.  Further testing led to the sample being that of Reyes._

Each word added a weight to her fingers. Every sentence a weight on her heart.

… _Traces of …semen from that other than the victim was collected from the anal cavity.  The sample matches the DNA of that belonging to Gabriel Reyes’ Biological Profile._

_Final Conclusion of Evidence: Shimada Hanzo was a victim of sexual assault from Gabriel Reyes, also know under the newly discovered Talon codename: Reaper._

Finished. Without a thought Angela began to log into Athena’s medical database. Only those with the code to access such important detailed files on Overwatch members and associates are her and the leaders appointed at Gibraltar. That includes…

“Enter finger recognition Dr. Ziegler.” She pressed her thumb to the small fingerprint scanner.

“ID verified. Do you wish to upload Hanzo Shimada’s file to the database?”

Normally, her answer would be a quick yes, sometimes before Athena would finish her dialogue, but this time it was extremely different. The words of the patient began to stream into her head:

_What’s the point? Do you actually believe Morrison will react in a sane manner?_

If she gave him the file, he would go after Reyes with the intent to kill…but was that his plan to begin with?  He told everyone that he would bring Reyes to justice, but what type of justice? Bring in him dead or alive? How many more people would die in their rage to kill each other?!!

It was going to happen; this she came to terms with a long time ago.  The file…would add fuel to the never ending fire.

Fire…fire to admit all the sins to light up the darkness, and burn our souls clean; nothing would be left but ash.

So to ashes they went, each plastic vile and cotton swab melting to bits in the flash heat incinerator in the side wall of the bay. Its purpose: to reduce and/or eliminate disease, stop the sickness from spreading.

“We’ve all made mistakes,” she whispered as the ashes fell through to the main trash unit.

“What’s that Dr. Ziegler?” Athena replied.

Heels slightly clicking she went back to the computer so sorrowly smooth like she was gliding with her battle wings.

“No, no delete the file. Delete all traces of the file!”

“Are you-”

“Yes I’m sure! I’ve never been so sure in my life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love adding in plot twists! They make everything so much more enticing! Enjoy this chapter while you can, because it may take me a while longer to write the third. Thank you guys so much for continuing to read this series!


	3. A Web of Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot thickens with secret intentions. Morrison finally gets his questions answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the chapter you all have been waiting too long for. Sorry about that. But in turn, this probably the longest chapter of a fanfic that I written thus far. Progress!

**“ _Oniichan!”_**

It appeared instantly.  The billowing sun shining with all its glory upon the fresh spring day. There, rather far off in the distance, shouted a small boy with slightly spikey hair spinning and twirling without the slightest care. He picked flowers only to send them up to the sky. He rolled in the never-ending fields of grass, making angels made of petals. Behind him, the greatest and oldest temple standing in Hanamura.

After what felt like minutes of staring, the man was finally noticed by the gleeful youngling. As youth itself ran to him, the joy-filled smile lighting up his soul, he suddenly felt a pang of nervousness.  How long had he been here? Why could he not move?  Head to toe, frozen completely still.  The only body part he could move was his eyes, which seemed to betray him.  The boy continued to run, but at a much slower pace, almost as if time clutched him in its hands.   He screamed once again, reaching out for the man in front of him.

 ** _“Onnniiichannn!_** ”

But as there was sunlight, moonlight rayed in like the flick of a switch. Short flames eradicated the flowers of red and gold. The beautiful garden, now an old training courtyard.

First the soft touch of an innocent child, to a desperate grasp of a dying man.  The tone turned to that of pain.

 **“BROOOOOTHEEEER!”** he clasped onto the unmoving man, staining the clothes with bloodied hands. Fresh blood…  a gaping wound from –such a long sword, perfectly lodged into the ribcage –a final blow for sure.  The end of the sword pointing toward its murderous user. Strange… that person wasn’t there before. 

Couldn’t really make out the face with such long black hair blocking their deadly intentions, but he knew who it was, and knew them very well.

The assassin grasped the handle only to yank it out of the grown-up with one swift move.  No words. The grip loosened as the victim fell and stayed motionless on the engraved stone ground.  Lips and eyes wide open and filled with terror.

 

“Go back.” Said the killer.

“No, no please…”

 **“Go back from which you came, demon!”** Without enough of a chance to even move, the killer swung again.

 

Another scene, a different day. A regular alleyway in a completely different city. Different country? He could not tell.

 

His lifeless legs were now running of their own volition, turning out of one alley and into another.   He heard voices behind him, voices he also knew well in his native language.

_“Stop him! He must atone for his treason!”_

_“Off with his head!”_

_“Traitor!”_

_“Kill for the clan!”_

**_“Honorless fool!”_ **

 

That comment stopped him in his tracks, unable to move once again yet he felt them burn.

 

There was a pain coming from his knees.  Looking down at his feet he found blood, filling his boots far too quickly.   Hands moving without control began to roll up his pants to find more blood, gushing down like a red waterfall.   No calves or feet to be found.

He screamed. No one heard.

His body began to fall in what seemed to be the ground, but rather opened into another dimension, a dark and foreboding zone.  Nothing but whispers greeting his arrival.  The sounds grew louder and louder mixed with more insults and threats in addition to demands. The last sound of them all busted his eardrums…a gunshot sounded off less than an inch from his ears.  Hot, red streaks crawled down his neck and shoulders. 

He wondered why he wasn’t dead yet.

But all was suddenly calm…for a moment at least.  He had not realized it before it was too late.  The void grabbed at his hands, locking them behind his back. Trying to fight back made the darkening grip tighter. The heat of another grew close from behind, a tongue began licking the blood off his shoulder like a vampire. To the neck, then his ear.  The heated breath making his hairs stand on end. Another deathly whisper somehow passed through his unhearing ears…

 

**“I will come for you.”**

 

Off in the distance came a light, no, two dots of light. One orange, the other blue.  A cold old voice attached: **“I’ve got you in my sights.”**

“You’ll never have him!” spoke the human-like darkness. It began to seep into the floor like quicksand, along with it, its victim.  The man looked down into the void floor only to see electronic pegs for walking instead of nothingness once before. These things allowed him no movement.

“Reyes!”

“Morrison!”

The black pool was up to their throats as the lights grew brighter with each growing sound of footsteps.  Bullets like fireworks lighting the way.  A random mechanical laughter.

“No…stop… _Yamatte_ ….”

 

“YAAAMAATTEEEE!”

 

Hanzo woke up in a cold sweat, clothes and blankets drenched.  He did not take the time to recollect his thoughts, there was no point in doing so, but rather he threw all the fabric onto the floor, breathing heavily. Taking off all his clothes, he slid the door open to the tiled bathroom and jumped into the shower. 

This was not an unusual process. It had happened many times before, sometimes ending in heart-stopping fear, other times in tears.  A few times in a seduced rage.  This time it was neither, just a feeling of emptiness tagged with an immense migraine.  Never before had Reyes or Morrison appeared in the dream…until today. Yet again, he never slept in an Overwatch facility before.  The medium however compact room was actually an upgrade from places he had been sleeping.  This place had lights and bigger windows. Also no rats.  But if anything, the end of that nightmare was more like a harsh dream compared to how it usually turned out.  In an odd and twisted way, he sort of welcomed this change.  It made him realize where his new priorities laid. 

 

Avoid Morrison and find Reyes.

He dried off in front of the sink and looked into the mirror.  “My hair has gotten too long.” By the time he finally found the scissors, there was a knock on the door.

Grunting he asked, “Who is it?”

“It’s just me!”

Must be McCree. Those boot spurs can be heard even through the thick metal door. The room was in a good condition just a moment ago.  Why hadn’t the cowboy come a normal time of the day instead before the crack of dawn?  Nevermind that.  Hanzo opened the door just enough for him to slip through and close it behind him.

“What is it McCree?”

The cowboy appeared flustered.  Had he not seen the archer in just training shorts before?  Maybe it’s the tattoo. The one not normally seen in his normal attire.  It was simply black ink kanji of the name “Shimada” on his pelvis.  Opposite side of his dragons.

“I…um…” tipping his hat over his face. “W-why…aren’t you cold in that getup? I know its nice weather in Seoul but-”

“What –do you –want McCree?”

He cleared his throat and slightly turned his head to look at what was just the most fascinating doorframe. “Well uh –I just came down here to tell ya’ that Morrison needs to talk to ya’.” He proclaimed. “You know about the –”

“I know,” said Hanzo unamused. “Where is the commander?”

“In the Medbay with Mercy.”

“Thank you. I will speak to him soon.” he turned to slip back into his room, but a boot jammed the way.

“Wait,” weird how he suddenly broke out of his Southern draw. “…I don’t know what happened the day before last, but by golly if you still need more time to process it all…” he cut his line short.  McCree realized he didn’t really know much about the archer, but knew well enough by comparing the other’s current demeanor to the one in Hanamura. When Reyes shoved the man into his arms, those eyes were blank and slightly lifeless. Now they were dead tired yet burning with intention. Hanzo was a hard man to break, but he could imagine the person or persons who could destroy him in such a way.

“…if Reyes –” That shifting of the shoulders, palm placed on an aching neck…an instant indicator to his unfinished question.

Hanzo took a deep breath and turned to face the messenger. “Tell Morrison I’ll be there is 15.”

“But –”

“Good day, McCree.” The agent’s foot was knocked out of place and the door slammed shut. The cowboy couldn’t help but sigh too. He turned and walked slowly back to the main hall, fingers laced behind his head.

He whispered, kicking his spurs around, “Well shit… why everything got to be so messed up now?”

 

“McCree!” he stopped and looked back. “I can assure you that I’m currently in a suitable working condition, but I appreciate this concern of yours…And Reyes…” he paused. “…Reyes isn’t as corrupted as you take him to be.” The door closed slowly this time.

 

* * *

  

 _Less than 30 hours after the end of his healing session and that old commander is already demanding answers again.  He must really hate Reyes, even refusing to use his real name. Not exactly sure why._   Hanzo thought as walked down the metal-plated halls. He had only been to the Overwatch center in Gibraltar, yet he assumed the layout here would be somewhat similar.  He stood corrected.

Though the rows of halls were few, he found himself often back from where he started. It wasn’t until the AI system Athena caught on and directed him to the Medbay.

“Thank you.”

“I’m here at your assistance Master Shimada.” He thought of her well-coded manners and continued on. Everything was suddenly becoming more clear.  The Medbay had more than one entrance, two electronic doors on opposite sides and one in the middle.  He would choose the one he use the center, rather than the one before him.

 

“What do you mean insufficient results?” came a voice from the room.  The commander tried to speak silently, but then again that was still pretty loud to most.

“I’m sorry, but there’s no real evidence spelling out foul play from Reyes. Just DNA from the coat. All the scars and bruises he received from others.”

“That can’t be right Mercy.  Did you run the tests multiple times?

“I did, and I’m just as shocked as you are,” she added.  “You know, maybe we ought to trust Shimada a little more –”

“You know what he did to his own brother!” he shouted.  “A man like that needs to be kept under surveillance at all times.

Still she pressed. “I think we should tell him.”

“He doesn’t deserve to know.”

 

Silence. Hanzo waited a minute after their discussion, faking footsteps in place to the throw off any excess suspicion. “You wanted to see me?”

The doctor and the soldier stared at him quite awkwardly. This was the first time they saw the archer without his chest out.  He wore black sweatpants which stopped at his prosthetics, and a gray sleeveless turtleneck. An interesting mix, but it’s not like he had any real choice to his clothing here, just anything leftover.

 

“Yeah I did. You’re not off the hook from the other day. I still have questions for you.”

“Is that so?” sarcastically, testing the commander’s tolerance today. “Didn’t find what you needed in Hanamura?”

“Listen here Shimada…” they walked closer to each other both eyeing the suspicious.  Interesting, the commander has blue eyes.  Scars on the face much like–

“Men! Let’s be civil here shall we?” Mercy interrupted. “Hanzo, you **will** answer some of Morrison’s questions while I check on your prosthetics.”  She eyed him with a small (and probably fake) grin as her hand directed him to the patient table.  “And Morrison, you **will** be polite, won’t you?”

The men both decided to behave in front of the exhausted angel.

 

“First, did you recognize any of the enemies you came in contact with other than Reaper?”

“The first group of assassins were most probably members of my disbanded clan. Reaper came with someone else…a sniper.  From the way he talked on the comms, it was a woman with a codename –something spider related. I can’t remember for sure.”

“Do you know why they came for you?”

“I assumed they wanted to turn me in on some bounty like the rest.”

“They asked you any questions?”

“No. Just simply gave demands.  I was able to fight most of them off until the sniper must have shot me with some dart.”

“Oh!” gasped Mercy. “That must’ve been what that small rash that was on your chest!” she too, was playing along with the charades.

Hanzo continued, “All I know was that I was knocked out for what seemed like hours. When I awoke, it was Reaper who began escorting me somewhere when you and agent McCree came.”

Morrison thought about this, pacing the room with his combat boots. “Something still doesn’t add up,” he professed. “Why did they strip you if you’re already unconscious?”

“Probably thought I has some other weapon or tracker on me, which they weren’t wrong about.” He tapped the leg Mercy wasn’t working with on the corner table peg.

“Regardless of that.” The soldier pressed with a harder question. “Why did you stop me?”

“From what?”

“You seem so sure that Reaper was there to help you.  Why is that?”

Like with Mercy, he planned multiple answers to that question. One he particularly liked that went well with the story him and the doctor seemed to be crafting. “They probably tranquilized me because I wouldn’t have left with them willingly; however, they didn’t handcuff me, nor did they deactivate my legs like those they saved me from.  I didn’t know who they were at first, but then again, you all didn’t introduce yourselves openly at first either. I assumed –”

“Are you implying that –”

“They must’ve wanted to recruit Hanzo too,” Mercy interrupted. “Like so many other past members of ours.  Either through bribery or…brainwash”

Silence captivated the room. Surprisingly, Hanzo hadn’t thought about that other option. Talon would have eventually tortured him into submission or easier –wipe him of his memory.  The more he thought about it, the more likely it seemed. The real question was, would Reyes had let them?

“Then its confirmed. Talon’s try to reduce us to nothing, whether that be recruiting or killing our troops.  They must be stopped immediately.”

The archer peered at him. “And how exactly are you planning on doing that?”

Morrison grabbed his gun from the corner. “By taking out their main source of our operations. We need to find Reaper and you’re going to help me.”

 

Before Hanzo could protest, Athena made her presence clear.

 

“Commander Morrison, you are needed immediately. Winston has found another Talon base.”

“Roger that.” He began to leave, but turned back “You…” He pointed. “Don’t go too far this time. Or you’ll need more than just leg prosthetics in the future.” The doors slid past him once again.

 

The doctor and her patient. They were alone again.

Hanzo sighed. “You made a good decision Dr. Ziegler,” he said in a rich tone. “I can guess what you did with the evidence.” He looked back at the incinerator.

She didn’t see this. Her head was still down, fingers pressing on hidden buttons on his mechanical calves. “I’m not proud of what I did,” she said.  “What really happened…there’s a lot more to it than what I really found, isn’t there?”

“You’re better off not knowing.”

“…Then I want the same for Morrison.” Hanzo looked down and realized she had taken some type of device from under his foot –a tracking device no less.

“Take this,” she said. “Ditch it, keep it, I don’t care, but if you wish to turn its signal back on, I will know to send agents to your aid.”

“What’s the catch?”

“Excuse me?”

“Stop playing coy, that tricked didn’t work last time. Why have you decided to help me?”

She stopped.  What exactly was she doing? “…You were right. Morrison and Reyes meeting again would end in one if not both of their deaths…again. I don’t want that.” Mercy tried to cover her face. Yet no one could deny her tears.  “ I know this may be difficult for you, but I want you to find Reyes before Overwatch does.”

“And do what exactly?”

“…make him disappear again, I don’t know, anything! Just…”  She sobbed, “Don’t kill him.”

“I don’t think anyone can,” he added, but the thought carried him off into unsteady territory. “And what if I refuse?”

Mercy stared up at him, eyes red and menacing. “Then I’ll set up a manhunt to find you, with Morrison as the head.”

“Won’t he chase me regardless?”

“I can keep him occupied with other Talon leads.”

“Well then. How can I say no to that?”

“You can’t.” she finished with his legs and stood back up. “You can leave at anytime, but undercover of course. Security levels are low during the noon and Athena won’t stop you. But remember, some of our agents here know about your predicament, so if they try to arrest you. Please don’t…injure them unless necessary.”

He got up from the table, jump a few times and stretched to test his legs. “Very well. I will be leaving today then. I don’t want to be here when Morrison comes back.” He walked with purpose grabbing that dark jacket from out of the evidence box. “Until we meet again Dr. Ziegler.” He left through the middle open doors.

 

Mercy felt… slightly satisfied. She let the silence set in for a little bit before walking back to monitor and calling in the agent. “You heard all of that didn’t you? And tell the truth.”

The slowing spinning spurs introduced the man well enough from behind the left door. No one ever takes the third entrance, and McCree knew that.

“Yes Ma’am,” he answered. “I know it ain’t my place in get involved, but I’ve got a question that I want answered.”

Mercy just kept typing. “Go ahead.”

“Does Hanzo know about –”

“No, but I assume he’ll figure it out eventually.” She grabbed the communicator off the desk and toss it to the agent. “Now, like Hanzo, I have a job for you too.”

“Oh?”

A weird smirk appeared on her face as she nodded. “Follow him.”

 

* * *

 

All was still.  All was bright.  Their were no shadows to cast amongst the temple. Mountains whispering in the pure daylight. All…seemed perfect. But darkness needs no words nor sounds to move amongst the good. 

But there at the Temple, such dark things came to be wiped clean and have peace restored.

 Within these ancient walls, a monk moved with ease. This was because he needed no footsteps to guide his path.  With his power running low, he stopped and hovered in front of the doors, wooden and carved with the most intricate of designs, telling in turn the story of behind its occasion.  The story of unity: it depicted the day where omnics and humans made peace here in Nepal.

As he began to touch the symbols, the door began to open from the inside, allowing an echo of weirdly calming creaks to resound within the temple foyers.

“Ah Zenyatta. I knew you’d come.”  This omnic spoke with little to no electronic humming as if he transcended his wiring to do so. “Come, let us charge in thought.”

Together, they moved in harmony over the large, dark painted and buzzing tiles which were filled with energizing technology. Choosing to sit in a crossed leg manner (Zenyatta already in the such a position), the master monks sat in the back center of the room on top of these robot charging panels, made specifically for omnic yoga and meditation.

Silence befell the room as they began to collect their thoughts, only to ‘open their minds’ for discussion.

“Your newest pupil is doing quite well under your studies Zenyatta. I’m impressed with your growth in teaching.”

The younger omnic pointed his head slightly to the ceiling taking view of continuing engraving of the story of unity. “I only guided him with the words you taught me master Mondatta,” he hummed. “But the boy still has a lot to learn about the world, and himself.”

“Does he still deny?” he asked.

“Sadly yes.” Zenyatta could feel the worry in his master’s tone. “But I believe his resolve for his falsehoods dies down with every new moment.”

“Let us hope then, that his inner enlightenment won’t damage his progress.”

As Mondatta finished, he metaphorically closed his eyes and began to float much like Zenyatta lightly of the charger. “He must pass into the iris.”

Both masters were too in thought to her the lightest of footsteps drawing closer to their private thinking quarters, but nevertheless their concentration did not break, even as the doors were pushed open.

The cyborg, stopping his rush slowing began to walk to center where he got on his knees and bowed to his masters.

“Master Zenyatta! Oh, and Master Mondatta. I come with great news!”

“Hmm…and what might that be, my apprentice?”

“I can feel it! The dragon! It stirs within me once again. But why?” he pondered. “My brother is dead…”

“Perhaps my young one,” interrupted Mondatta. “There is more to your story than you think.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot is going to get even more interesting from here. I can tell you for sure that Reaper and Hanzo will meet again (finally) in the next chapter. Hopefully, I won't take as long on this one.
> 
> Thank you to all the Reazo fans and Happy Reazo Week on tumblr!


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